Changing of Nature
by Matanator
Summary: Harry Potter's brother, Anthony has been proclaimed the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry is pushed aside for the new celebrity. Follow and see how Harry copes. My first fic, criticism welcome. Please read, review and if it is to your liking, favourite and/or follow. Rating may change
1. Prologue - Voldemort

**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters other than those I have made up myself.**

The Dark Lord, Voldemort had always prided himself as the most powerful being on the face of the earth. He was drunk on the fear that he had instilled in everyone, the power he held over the wizarding populace, and he had no intention to stop his rule.

Thus, when Severus Snape had come to him bearing the news of new born baby, capable of ending his reign due to a prophecy, he sought to stamp out the problem immediately, to 'nip it at its bud' before it became to... problematic.

And that's why he is here, at Godric's Hollow on the day known as Halloween to the filthy Muggles. A fitting day, as it was a day for horrors and nightmares, and what better way to celebrate Halloween than to kill this prophesied boy and secure his rule over magical Britain, eventual spreading to the whole world.

And it starts here, when he destroys the only person who can defeat him. He had put a lot of planning into this victory. His worthless servant, Peter Pettigrew had done his greatest deed. He had delivered the Potters to him. With the death of this family, who also had been a thorn in his side too long, no-one could humanly stop him. He approached the Potter's hidden cottage, taking care that he had no distractions that would hinder him when he ensured the demise of his apparent rival.

A small child ran up to him, "Nice costume mister!"

Voldemort sneered at the child, who, when seeing his face, turned pale and ran away. Voldemort was tempted to kill the child as he ran, but resisted, knowing it would alert the Potters to his presence. He continued up towards the house, slowly opening the gate, marvelling at the sudden ease at how he had broken into Dumbledore's supposed greatest defence, the Fidelius Charm.

Moving stealthily, Voldemort wanted nothing more to burst into the house and fire off spells at whoever was within, but the Potters were no push-overs. He needed a plan, to silently take them out one at a time.

By the time Voldemort reached the window, he knew this would be easier than ever expected. The parents weren't even home. The boys playing in the living room, unaccompanied and certainly unguarded.

The two boys, one looking about four years old while the other looked barely one, were building LEGO spacecrafts. Voldemort focused his attention to the younger of the two. This was the boy who was 'destined' to defeat him. But no longer, for tonight he would rid the world of the spawn of a mudblood while he was defenceless and, unopposed, he could walk right into the Ministry of Magic and have all of Magical Britain at his feet.

But first, he would have to kill the boy. It was a small matter, for Voldemort had murdered more people than all the Muggle criminals of the world put together. He calmly walking right up to the door and pushed it open. Not even bothering about secrecy anymore, he stalked towards the living room, startling the two boys within. Anthony Potter, the newly born baby, looked on incomprehensively as Voldemort laid his cold eyes upon the child. Harry Potter, barely four years old, already understood what was about to happen.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

The curse was cast, the sickly looking green spell soared through the air towards Anthony, but at the last moment, Harry had jumped in the way to protect his little brother. The curse took him in the chest, just over where his heart was. Harry slumped to the floor, dead, a look of defiance upon his face, his eyes staring unseeingly at Voldemort.

Despite looking his victims in the eyes before murdering them in cold-blood, Voldemort was slightly unnerved by the hard stare being given to him by a four year old. He growled out loud, shaking off the feeling, dismissing it and pointed thirteen and a half inches of yew at Anthony, determined not to be stopped by anything else.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ Voldemort cast for a second time.

The curse stuck Anthony in the forehead, and for a second, a look of triumph was etched across Voldemort's face. The triumphant look quickly turned into one of bewilderment, and then for once, Voldemort felt fear. The Killing Curse had, instead of being absorbed into the boy to kill him, begun to reform in front of the child's head and before Voldemort could do anything other than blink his eyes, the curse rebounded against its caster.

Voldemort felt pain for the first time since becoming known throughout magical Britain as You-Know-Who. He body was disintegrating before his eyes while the boy he had tried to kill was simply crying... blood leaking from a wound on his forehead, right where the Killing Curse had hit.

Voldemort screamed, his voice filled with a combination of fury and pain. His soul was released from his body, merely a wisp and an immense magical backlash exploded from his body. The entire house was suddenly alight with magical flames, burning up everything, even the very stone foundations of the house. A single pale blue light emitted from his wand, barely visible, and surged into the lifeless body that was once Harry Potter, and right before Voldemort's burning eyes, he began to stir. He screamed in outrage. How could anyone survive the Killing Curse let alone two boys who were at the most vulnerable age?

Voldemort's soul vanished from the house, a burning fury directed towards the two boys, towards Anthony Potter, who had vanquished him, just as the Dark Lord had intended to do to Anthony.

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene within minutes. He had felt the wards on the house fall when was burning and had immediately told Fawkes, his Phoenix companion, to alert the James and Lily Potter, whom he knew were over at Sirius' house. He quickly Apparated to Godric's Hollow with a growing sense of dread at what he would find.

As soon as Dumbledore Apparated, he felt intense heat burning upon his face. He tried to open his eyes but he couldn't without getting blinded with the fire's light. Casting the necessary protection charms, he opened his eyes and looked with horror upon what was once the Potter's house. The fire was obviously of a magical nature, burning everything it touched, including the solid stone that made the house.

James and Lily Potter had just arrived to see Dumbledore desperately trying to dissipate the raging fire. Both Potters quickly ran to help the old man save what remained of the cottage and possible whatever had survived within. Several 'Order of the Phoenix' members had arrived and stared at the blaze which was consuming the house, before helping quench the flames.

Five minutes later, Dumbledore pulled two boys from the wreckage. Both Harry and Anthony were covered in cuts, burns and other injuries but nothing that could be fixed. However, a certain scar caught the attention of the old man. A scar shaped in the form of a lightning bolt, upon the forehead of Anthony Potter.

Turning to the crowd that had gathered to watch he said calmly "I believe we have the saviour of the world. Anthony Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.


	2. Companion

**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters other than those I have made up myself.**

**3 years later**

Seven-year-old Harry Potter walked into the lounge room, to where his mother was seated, reading the Daily Prophet. The room was spacious and cosy at the same time, the fireplace blazed merrily with a bag of Floo powder on top of the mantelpiece. Hanging from one wall was a series of pictures of the Potter family, though Harry was usually not present within the photos, mainly focusing on James and Anthony.

Harry had always wanted to play with his mother or his father like a normal boy but whenever he asked either of his parents, they always claimed to be busy, or too tired. Yet their actions revealed at how they really felt. They only had no time, or they were too tired for _Harry,_ because whenever a four year old Anthony _walked into a room_, his parents would drop everything to satisfy whatever he wanted.

He sat next to his mother, her long red hair falling past her shoulders, her beautiful face looking tired as she read the important happenings of Britain.

"Mum, can you play with me?" Harry asked.

"Not now Harry, can't you see I'm busy?" Lily snapped back.

Harry merely sighed. He had almost predicted the words Lily had said, and she didn't disappoint.

Every day, Harry would try and do something to simply gain the attention of one of his parents, from simple things, like copying his father's habit of running his hand through his messy black hair, to extremes.

He would scream at night, even though he had no nightmare, just for his parents to come rushing to his room and comfort him, but they did no such thing. He even doubted they knew _where_ his room was.

He would hurt himself so that his parents would hold him while he cried, reassuring him everything would be alright, giving him looks of sympathy. But whenever he broke his arm, or cut his leg, he would get no compassionate gestures from his parents. He had to deal with the injury by himself.

He would try daring things, hoping his parents might see and congratulate him for pulling such a stunt, or at least tell him off, saying it was dangerous. But no such reaction occurred. He merely received indifference.

Nothing Harry did was worth the attention of his parents. He was trying less and less to be noticed, he was caring less and less about how his parents thought of him. Harry was about to leave the room when his younger brother walked in.

"Mummy! Can I has a cookie?" little Anthony asked, his innocent face, looking imploringly at his mother.

Lily Potter looked up from Daily Prophet and without a seconds hesitation she responded. "Sure thing sweetheart, mummy will bake you a big batch of chocolate cookies."

Harry was sick of the affection that was lathered upon his little brother. Getting everything he wanted whenever he wanted it. As Lily got up to make the cookies, for a fraction of a second, her eyes lay upon her other son. Harry saw the look, and instantly knew it was not one of love. It was almost an accusatory glance, saying _'Why couldn't you be a hero like your brother?'_

Harry slowly walked to his room, going up a set of stairs and a ladder to the attic. He looked around and felt a sense of pride. Whenever he went to his room, Harry would always feel he had accomplished something. After all, Harry had basically created his room from an empty, plain space.

After the burning of the house at Godric's Hollow, the Potters had bought a huge 2 bedroom house, as they had 'no need' for a third bedroom. It was complete with 3 bathrooms, a duelling platform, a training room and many other extravagant accessories. Harry was forced to find a liveable space on his own, and after an extensive search of the house, he discovered the attic.

It suited Harry just fine, as it was relatively clean, nothing a bit of elbow grease (or magic) could remove and it was out of the way of the normal hubbub going around the house. After a day of cleaning and tidying up, Harry had succeeded in making the attic sleep-worthy, and a few days more, it was spotless, comfortable and cosy.

However it was not perfect. When winter arrived, Harry understood the true meaning of cold. The biting wind seeped through the thin layer of insulation, the regular downpour of rain leaking through minute holes in the roofing, forming puddles within the attic.

Harry had to clean up the puddles before any mould could set in, plug up the leaks in the roof and reinforce the pitiful insulation. He did this over two weeks, discovering all the holes and where the insulation was thinnest, and during it, each night became a battle just to survive, huddling against a wall, covering himself in blankets, trying desperately to keep warm.

He had refused to go down from the attic, to the main house despite the freezing temperatures, for that would show he was weak, dependant on his family. Harry wanted to be independent; he needed to be from the way his parents acted. He would be in the wide world on his own, without any support from his _family_.

And during the summer, the conditions were no better. The sun, ever relentless, made sure that the attic became a boiler room, only a single window to ventilate the stifling heat. Harry had to resort to a Muggle method of staying cool, an electric fan. He had tapped into the neighbour's wiring and was literally stealing their electricity, albeit only to power a small fan; it would barely be noticeable to the Muggles.

It ventilated the stuffy air, a fake breeze ever blowing through. Harry had even thought of trying the put another window in, but it would require too much time and would raise too many questions as why would a small kid would order a pane of glass and everything needed to build a window. And it would leave him vulnerable to the elements as the window would be installed and Harry didn't want to risk it.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts when he heard someone banging on the front door. He knew that his mother would be in the kitchen making the cookies and Anthony wouldn't be bothered to open it. His father was out at work in the Ministry and wouldn't be back until late.

Harry sighed and climbed down from his room and trudged to the door. He opened it to reveal a tall man, his long black hair framing a handsome face, eyes alight with mirth.

"Uncle Padfoot!" Harry shouted, before launching himself at Sirius Black.

Sirius laughed as Harry tackled him with a hug. "What has my godson been up to today?"

Harry's face, so happy and cheerful, suddenly shifted, becoming distant and sad.

"I tried again to get _their _attention but they still don't do anything for me and they constantly fawn over Anthony."

Sirius grimaced at his bad choice of words. The news of the continuous mistreatment of the Potter's first-born infuriated him. What kind of parent would ignore a child just because his brother is a celebrity? Ever since Anthony had defeated Lord Voldemort, Harry had been cast aside, disregarded and neglected.

Sirius took every opportunity to visit Harry, but alas, the love of a parent can never be replaced. Harry was deprived of the affection every child should experience. Each time Sirius visited, Harry would be a little more withdrawn than before. The effects were barely noticeable but over time, it would build up and who knows what Harry would do when he couldn't take it anymore.

Sirius had wanted to say hello to the Potters, as they were good friends but he realised Harry needed some cheering up.

"Come on Monsoon," Harry chuckled at the use of his nickname which had come about during the experiences fighting the elements when he was working on his room, "what do you say we go to Diagon Alley for ice-creams at Fortescue's?"

"OK!"

Sirius held out his hand, which Harry held onto tightly.

With a loud pop, Sirius and Harry disappeared from the Potter House.

* * *

Walking down Diagon Alley with his godfather will always be a memory Harry would keep forever. If fact, any time spent with Sirius would always be memorable. Harry had a lot of fun, probably more than seven years with his parents.

Sirius took him took him to _Flouish and Blotts_, _Quality Quidditch Supplies_, looking at all the different brooms, _Eeylops Owl Emporium_ and many other stores**. **He even treated him to a grand lunch at the _Leaky Cauldron_ and bought him a gift.

As Harry sat on his bed, late at night after Sirius had taken him home, he admired his new companion. A peregrine falcon with silver edged wings, fastest living animal on earth, reaching incredible speeds, stood sleeping on a perch Harry had bought at _Magical Menagerie_**. **He clearly remembered the occasion of when he had bought his companion.

-*_Flashback*-_

_Sirius had brought him to Magical Menagerie where Harry browsed, amazed at all the different animals, staring at the assortment of cats, lizards, fish, toads (although he wasn't very interested in them), all the weird and wonderful kinds of birds and all the other different pets._

_At the back of the store, Harry found a magnificent vicious-looking bird, perched on a log in a cage. He stood enraptured by it, staring at its silver edged wings, like they were reinforced with steel. The bird in turn regarded him coolly, indifferent to the hand reaching out towards him._

_Suddenly a voice shouted a way behind Harry. "Be careful! That bird will claw your hand until you won't have one anymore."_

_Harry quickly withdrew his hand from the cage. Spinning around he saw the store owner rushing towards him, Sirius right behind him, concerned. Harry turned back to the bird._

"_Why is he so dangerous?"_

"_Because," the store owner replied, "That it is a unique and very special bird. I'm Aaron by the way."_

"_Hello, it's nice to meet you, I'm Sirius Black and this little person is Harry Potter."_

"_Hello there." Aaron said kindly. Harry didn't respond, not hearing what the man had said, instead he was mesmerized by the bird._

_Aaron smiled, knowing the reason for the silence.__After a few seconds, he frowned. "Potter did you say? As in the Boy-Who-Lived-Potter?"_

"_Yes." Sirius answered shortly, his expression turning guarded._

"_I wasn't aware that there was another Potter child besides Anthony"_

_Sirius' face turned a little angry. "Not many do."_

_Aaron noticed the anger, wondering its source but before he could say anything, Sirius changed the subject._

"_So what's so special about that bird?" Sirius asked. "Besides being a bird of prey, it doesn't look unusual."_

"_Well," Aaron responded nervously, looking at the bird as if it might suddenly break out and attack them, however it was just watching them with intelligent interest, "for one this bird is a peregrine falcon, a master of the skies, almost never missing its target, fastest animal, magical or Muggle. Its uniquely special for it is a Muggle species but for some reason, it has magic within its veins."_

"_That's incredible. A Muggle animal having magical properties? That's just… incredible." Sirius repeated, unable to think of a word to describe what he was thinking._

"_It has lived over a hundred years too." Aaron said as-a-matter-of-factly, ignoring the look of disbelief on Sirius' face._

"_My family has run this business for a long time and my father and my father's father have both seen this very same bird, sitting in the store. And it won't take just any master. My father told me would tell me stories of how problematic this particular bird has been. Whenever he sold it, the customer would bring him back the next day bearing horrible claw marks and wounds where he pecked at them. It's quite an interesting bird."_

_Harry ignored the two adults talking and focused on the bird, walking slowly towards its cage. It certainly looked very fierce. Striking grey eyes stared right into Harry's emerald ones, as if looking past him into his very soul._

"Greetings child"

_Harry nearly jumped out of his skin in shock. He sensed the voice was in his mind and he looked around for its source. His eyes fell upon the bird, who was still staring at him._

"Was that you?"_Harry thought, directing it towards the bird._

"It was. You need not fear my beak or claws. I can sense a great turmoil within you. You seek to be accepted but you know within your mind it will not happen while you are home, yet your heart still pushes on. You have great potential, your heart filled with nobility and courage, a mind seeking knowledge and wisdom, immensely loyal to those you call friends and possess cunning in vast amounts."

_Harry blinked in surprise. It seems this bird truly was very special._

"Of course I'm special. I'm talking to you through your mind now aren't I?"

_He shook his head and remained silent, keeping his head clear of thoughts to prevent the bird from reading his mind._

"You have the beginnings of a great wizard Harry Potter. I would like to accompany you on your journey."

"What?"

"I would like to become your companion, or your familiar, which ever you a more familiar with."

_Harry could sense a smile in the words even though the bird physically did not._

"How does that work?"

"I need blood."

_Harry looked alarmed, suddenly fearful of some ulterior motive._

"Do not worry, a few drops should suffice. Put your hand through my cage."

_Harry did so, and as soon as his hand was within reach of the peregrine falcon, he stuck quickly, his claw slashing across the back of his hand. Harry could hear Sirius and Aaron shouting in alarm but he could barely feel the injury. The bird put his beak into the wound and proceeded to drink the blood oozing from the cut flesh._

_After a small flash of white light, Harry's hand quickly began to heal itself._

"It is done." _The peregrine falcon said._

_Harry turned to see a stunned Sirius and Aaron, both knowing of the ritual magic used for the bonding of an animal companion._

"_Harry, what did you just do?" Sirius asked._

"_The bird talked to me, and it said it wanted to accompany me in my life journey." Harry responded._

_Sirius was just shocked while Aaron just smiled. For someone to have a companion such as this peregrine falcon, he would have to be a great wizard. For a child barely 7 years old to bond to this particular bird will be special indeed._

"_If you are going to buy the bird, it's usually 1400 galleons but since you are bonded, I'll give him to you for 500 galleons. There are also standard bird accessories._

_Harry and Sirius had walked out of the store with a new peregrine falcon on Harry's shoulders and laden with many bird-care items, a shrunk bird perch, a large cage, claw and beak treatment kit among other things.__Sirius had paid for it all, saying it was his gift, although for what Harry didn't know, but he couldn't be happier._

_-*End Flashback*-_

Harry lay his head down on his pillow, still facing Jupiter, for that's what he called his peregrine falcon right then and there. Jupiter, the roman god of the sky; it seemed appropriate for a falcon, so at ease flying through the air.

**A/N: Sorry for the slow update, but I have upcoming end-of-year exams and I am busy studying and my internet crashed so I couldn't update for a few days until it restarted. I'm also wondering, what is a reasonable length for a chapter? Please Review, Favourite and/or Follow! Thankyou!**


	3. Wands

**Disclaimer: see previous chapter**

**A/N: Sorry I took so long but as I have said I had end of year exams but I finished those a while ago and then I was feeling lazy. Very lazy. Very, very lazy.**

**To make the story go along in response to a comment, James and Lily went out to respond to a Death Eater raid (that Voldemort planned to distract them). It was an emergency so they could not contact anyone to look after Anthony and Harry.**

* * *

It was Harry's birthday today, just turning eight on the 16th of August, right in the middle of the year and once again, the Potter's simply ignored Harry, fawning over Anthony instead who had just performed his first bout of accidental magic. He was flying on his toy broom, hovering just a metre above the ground when he suddenly sped up and crashed into the wall of the house. James who had been watching quietly, cried out and quickly rushed over to Anthony until he realised that he had bounced off the wall like a ball ( should he be fat?). James, after quickly checking that Anthony was actually unharmed, smothered him in proud hugs, quickly bringing him into the house to tell his wife. Harry, and after performing accidental magic many times was left standing as he watching in disbelief at the UNFAIRNESS of his life. And on his birthday, he was being ignored over something that when he did, received no recognition what-so-ever. Sirius came by and after James had told him what had happened, he too congratulated Anthony. He then saw Harry looking on dejectedly. Sirius quickly walked over to him and gave him a crushing hug.

"Happy birthday Harry! How are you today?" Harry's face brightened considerably when he heard his godfather/uncle's voice

"Thanks Sirius and I'm fine... I guess."

He motioned Harry to move away from his family and gestured towards the front door.

"I didn't bring you a gift" and when Harry's face fell he added quickly "but I do have something planned and I think you'll like it better than any gift I could give you."

"Really? What is it? Are we going somewhere?" Harry asked excitedly. He suddenly got suspicious. "It's not one of your dates with some lady is it?"

Sirius laughed heartily as he opened the door.

"No it's not. It's something much better."

"Can't you tell me?"

"Well, if I do then it wouldn't be a surprise would it? All gifts have to be a surprise, and wrapped too. Think of this as the wrapping Harry."

"Fine then, but at least tell me where we are going"

Sirius grabbed Harry's hand. "Somewhere near Diagon Alley," he said and Apparated away.

* * *

Once Harry's world stopped spinning, he realised that indeed he was near Diagon Alley but not anywhere he recognised. This place was darker, dirtier and had a sinister feel to it. Dark shapes and figures flitted in and out between side alleys and stores. He could see a small part of Diagon Alley visible behind him. Harry realised this must be a branch-off from Diagon Alley, a darker place for more 'illegitimate' business.

"This is Knockturn Alley. Don't ever go here without me Harry," Sirius said. "It's a dangerous place for anyone who doesn't know how to defend themselves."

"Then why are we here?"

"It's only for a short while and I'm a known figure around here. No one wants to mess with me." Harry followed Sirius closely, fearfully looking around the dark and dingy place that was so alike yet so different to Diagon Alley. Harry nearly bumped into Sirius when he stopped suddenly. Looking past him to see what was the problem, he saw a man with his wand drawn and pointed towards Sirius.

"Drop yer wands an' gimme all yer gold and anyfing of value" he said menacingly, quite clearly very drunk, "or yer brain's gonna learn how ta' fly!"

Sirius gently pushed Harry behind him while he slowly reached into his pocket, pulling out a small sack of galleons and tossing it at the man's feet. The drunken man quickly stooped to pick up the money but that distraction was enough for Sirius to whip out his wand and blast the drunken man into a nearby wall, cracking his head painfully before slumping to the ground.

"He's obviously new here or too drunk to think or he would have thought twice about trying to mug me." Sirius said in contempt. Harry looked with wide eyes at the man Sirius had just blast.

"Did you… kill him?" Harry asked fearfully. Sirius responded by chuckled. "No, I simply knocked him out. That'll put him out of action for a while and stopped him from mugging people less able to defend themselves, although what they would be doing in Knockturn Alley would be beyond me." Sirius mused to himself.

Sirius walked towards the fallen man, stopping momentarily to pick up his sack of galleons. He turned him over onto his back and squatted beside him.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked curiously.

"Seeing if he's mugged anyone else. A few more galleons wouldn't hurt anyone." Sirius replied whilst searching the man's pockets.

"Except him" Harry said, gesturing to the man lying down."

"Except him." Sirius repeated. A few moments of silence before Harry frowned slightly.

"Sirius, you have an entire vault stacked with mountains and mountains of gold, how can you be so picky about how much this man has?"

Sirius stopped rummaging through the man's pockets and turned to face Harry with a serious expression. "Well, if you think that way, you might end up poor one day. Every galleon counts. When you have lots of money, you think everything is cheap when they are not, thus wasting money. Eventually you'll run out of money with that kind of mindset."

Harry processed this for a few seconds before he also squatted and began to help Sirius find any loose galleons.

* * *

After finding a healthy amount of money on the man, Sirius and Harry resumed their mysterious trek through the narrow winding streets of Knockturn Alley.

"Sirius, you still haven't told me where we are going." Harry said after a while of walking.

"I know," came the short reply.

"Come on Sirius, why can't you tell me where we're going?"

"We're nearly there and trust me, this present will be so much more awesome if it is a surprise."

Two minutes later, Sirius and Harry stopped in front of an old shabby store, the sign unreadable due to the amount of letters that have already fallen off. What was left read  
_**'W LD W ST RN W N S'**_

"This is it," Sirius said a bit unnecessarily before walking right in. A little bell tinkered when they walked in, alerting whoever manned the store that someone entered. The store was dark and musty, with a gathering film of dust along the windows and tabletops. A small counter took up the left side of the room whilst the right seemed to stretch forever, lined with stacks upon stacks of (Mrs Tweede's Home-Made Chicken Pies) long thin boxes. A door behind the counter led what was presumable a workshop.

"Welcome to Wild Western Wands, where exotic wands are docked, stocked and unlocked for you." came a very bored voice. Harry jumped at the sudden sound and quickly spun to face a very old man behind the counter, surprised at how he didn't notice him when he first looked around. It took a while for Harry to register what the man had been talking about.

"A wand?" Harry looked at Sirius with wide-eyed wonder, "for me?" he asked.

Sirius ignored his question and spoke to the old man at the counter.

"Hello Mr Albury. I'd like to make a purchase for a wand that chooses my godson."

Mr Albury's eyes widened as he recognised just who had entered his store.

"Sirius? Sirius Black?"

"The very same."

"Sweet Merlin, it's really you! It's been too long!" he exclaimed as he shuffled from behind the counter and pulled Sirius into a hug. "And who is this?" he said, looking at Harry, who was watching the exchange between him and Sirius with a surprised look on his face.

"This is Harry Potter, my godson, who also needs a wand." Sirius reminded him gently.

"Ah yes, of course, of course… Potter did you say? I never knew they had another son besides Anthony."

"Not many do," Sirius responded darkly.

"Which is your wand arm Harry?" Mr Albury asked kindly.

"I'm ambidextrous but I favour my right side." Harry said shyly. Mr Albury nodded processing and thinking about which wands might suit the young boy.

"I'll get some wands I think might be compatible with the child." he said to Sirius, moving into the aisles where all the boxes are.

"Sirius, how do you know that guy?"

"Simon Albury is a great man. After I ran away from my mother, James' parents took me in until I graduated from Hogwarts. After that, I didn't want to impose on them for too long so I set out to find a place on my own. Simon took me in exchange for a bit of work around his shop. He knew quite a lot of wandlore and wanted to start his own business his financial situation, however, was not favourable and he only managed to buy this place. Before we renovated the place, it was a ragged, unliveable place."

Harry gestured to the store. "Then how come it's still so dirty if you renovated it?"

"After Simon and I were through, the store looked presentable and if I do say so myself, quite appealing. But I haven't seen him in years and I suppose he let it become what it is now."

"Well of course I did. Do you really expect an old man like me clean an entire store on his own?" Mr Albury said, coming in laden with more of the long, thin boxes which Harry presumed contained wands. "Besides, even when you were here, you weren't much help anyway."

Sirius just looked insulted.

Ignoring him, Mr Albury turned to Harry, "Try this, ash and dragon heartstring. Welsh Green to be precise. Ten and three quarters inches, pliable."

Harry waved the wand once before Mr Albury snatched it from him.

"How about this? Six inches, willow with a phoenix feather, supple."

Harry tried this wand too and yet again it was taken.

"Yew and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, rather firm."

Harry waved the wand but Mr Albury took this one as well. Harry was beginning to wonder how many wands he would have to go through and long it would take to find the one right for him.

"Ah, this one is rather unique. After all we do stock exotic wands. Bamboo directly imported from a forest in China, fourteen inches with a core I cannot identify. I think I might be a magical version of a panda. Well? Try it."

Harry took the wand and flourished it and Mr Albury once again took it back, just like the rest. Mr Albury gave and took wand after wand and Harry was beginning to think that there wasn't a single wand for him in this store.

"Another exotic one. Australian, eucalyptus with the intestine lining of a magical dingo, nine and a quarter inches."

Harry waved the wand with a lot less enthusiasm as the first few. As he expected, it was taken from him quickly enough. The pile of wands he went through rivalled that of what his brother got for his birthday and Christmas combined.

After spending a good two hours in the store, trying every wand Mr Albury had in his considerable stock, including some very unique wands, Sirius and Harry walked out. Harry felt crushed, if he couldn't find a wand that 'chose' him as Sirius said, he wouldn't be able to do magic. Sirius, for his part, couldn't believe that not a single wand in Mr Albury's store had chosen Harry. The only explanation Sirius could think of is that Harry is a Squib, which is most definitely incorrect as he himself had been on the receiving end of Harry's accidental magic, usually turning his hair a different colour or rapid growth of a beard that could rival Dumbledore's. Nothing malicious but they were still incidents of magic. Of course on the extreme rare chance that those particular wands were not compatible with his godson was possible but it was so unlikely on the point of impossible.

Sirius looked at Harry as they walked out of Knockturn Alley and into Diagon Alley. His head was down and his posture enforced that Harry was feeling great sadness.

"Don't worry Harry," Sirius said cheerfully, trying to lift Harry's spirit. "Mr Albury's wands are all quite unusual. I'm sure that Ollivanders has a wand with your name written on it."

Harry looked up at Sirius, hoping to any and every deity he could think of that he would find his wand at Ollivanders.

"Do you really think so?"

"Well, not literally a wand with your name on it but I'm sure you'll find a wand that chooses you."

"I hope so." Harry said quietly.

**A/N: I left it there for a little cliff-hanger, although it's not much. I hope you liked the chapter and I apologise once again for the long update. I hope, stressing hope, to update within a few weeks but don't expect it. I may not update for a few weeks/months but I will not abandon it without saying so. Thanks for the reviews and please review more and favourite and follow. Thank you.**


	4. Magic?

**Disclaimer: see previous chapter**

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. This chapter is going to be really really short, I'm just posting it to show that I am still alive and writing, just really slowly…**

_**Previously:**_ "_Don't worry Harry," Sirius said cheerfully, trying to lift Harry's spirit. "Mr Albury's wands are all quite unusual. I'm sure that Ollivanders has a wand with your name written on it."_

_Harry looked up at Sirius, hoping to any and every deity he could think of that he would find his wand at Ollivanders._

"_Do you really think so?"_

"_Well, not literally a wand with your name on it but I'm sure you'll find a wand that chooses you."_

"_I hope so." Harry said quietly._

_**LINEBREAK**_

A few minutes later they stopped once again in front of a shabby shop, with peeling gold letters that read _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. _A single display wand sat on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window to the left. The store had a striking resemblance to the wand shop they had visited not five minutes ago.

'_All wand stores seem be old and worn-out. Must be a traditional thing.'_ thought Harry as he gazed upon the store. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door, Sirius following him inside. A bell tinkered within depths of the shop, and Harry had a sense of d_éjà vu_. The interior was slightly smaller than _Wild Western Wands_ but it seemed to contain even more wands than the previous store. Thousands of them stacked from floor to ceiling.

"Good afternoon" a soft voice came.

Two orbs of silver light shone like moons from within the shadows of the massive shelves.

Garrick Ollivander stepped forward, slightly surprised to see the lesser known Potter in his store with Sirius Black trailing behind him.

"Ah, Mr Potter, I was wondering when I would be seeing you in my store. Although I admit I am rather surprised at seeing you at such an age with present company." He said, his eyes flicking to Sirius, back to the blankface of Harry.

"Ollivander, you are one of the more 'aware' wizards about the situation of Harry."

"Yes, about how sometimes fame can corrupt even the kindest people."

"Then you would understand what Harry is facing educationally. It's probably best if I tutor him early, and thus he needs a wand."

"If I may, what has brought about his state of depression?"

"Depression?"

"He hasn't responded to anything we've said nor had any emotion since the bell rang when you entered my store."

"…"

_**LINEBREAK**_

After a simple Cheering Charm, Harry was once again testing wands over and over again.

"Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine Inches. Nice and flexible. Give it a wave."

Harry hoped against hope that something would work with him. But even before he waved the wand, he could tell it wouldn't work with him. Harry shook his head and handed it back. Ollivander was surprised, few could tell by touch if a wand was compatible. He took it back and gave Harry another to try. Yet again, the pile of tried wands was enormous.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy." This wand was taken back just like every other one.

"Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy." The same results.

"Try this one, it's an unusual combination. Eleven inches, nice and supple, holly and phoenix feather…"

Ollivander sucked in a breath as Harry waved the wand. The brother of the wand possessed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He sighed in disappointment as nothing happened. He had expected at least something to happen. As it is, he simply took it back and put it on the pile with the others. Thirty minutes later, Ollivander announced that the remaining wands wouldn't be compatible.

"I usually start with the special or specific wands but after hearing your endeavour at Wild Western Wands, I thought to test the wands that all wizards and witches should be compatible with. Except for the holly wand but I have my own reasons for trying that one."

"Mr Ollivander, could you _please_ tell me what's wrong with me? Every wand I have tried has rejected me." Harry asked pleadingly.

"Well, this is unlike anything I have experienced so I cannot say exactly. You could try to also craft your own, however to learn the skills requires a very long period of time, almost five years before you are able to craft the most basic wand. And even then you could just be incompatible with the concept of wands. However, there are a few alternatives to wands. Staves for example, however they are even more difficult to craft than wands so I think that is out of the question. The only other alternative I can think of is wandless magic, which is very difficult to master."

"Do you mean that Harry might not be able to do normal magic? At all?"

"I cannot say. If you take the time to learn wandcraft, one can most assuredly craft their own personal wand, which will most definitely be compatible but as I said, that takes a long time to learn and master."

Harry felt tears forming in his eyes. The revelation that he, a child born into a magical dominated world would be left as useless as a Squib was a crippling blow.

Sirius looked at Harry, seeing his eyes misting over. He wanted to comfort Harry but before he could, he ran out of the store into the Diagon Alley.

"Harry! Harry, wait!" Sirius went to follow him but Ollivander gently laid a hand on his arm.

"Let him come to terms with it on his own. His resolve is strong and he will come out of this a better person. If you coddle and comfort him, he will give up hope."

Sirius looked at Ollivander in surprise. For a 'crazy old wand-maker', they were some very wise words, rivalling the wisdom of Dumbledore.


	5. Friend

**Disclaimer: see previous chapter**

**A/N: sorry for the really long update and short chapter. Just posting another short chapter to let you guys know '**_**I'm still alive and while my heart is beating I'll keep writing**__** slowly'**_**... Very slowly...**

**(btw, the line in italics is a re-rendered lyrics line from the song "Giving My Life" by I-Exist... It's a pretty good song in my opinion, listen to it if you want)**

**Here it is! Hope you enjoy!**

**ps. Sorry... Re-uploaded due to a mistake (although there's probably more that I can't see)**

* * *

**Previously:**

"Do you mean that Harry might not be able to do normal magic? At all?"

"I cannot say. If you take the time to learn wandcraft, one can most assuredly craft their own personal wand, which will most definitely be compatible but as I said, that takes a long time to learn and master."

Harry felt tears forming in his eyes. The revelation that he, a child born into a magical dominated world would be left as useless as a Squib was a crippling blow.

Sirius looked at Harry, seeing his eyes misting over. He wanted to comfort Harry but before he could, he ran out of the store into the Diagon Alley.

"Harry! Harry, wait!" Sirius went to follow him but Ollivander gently laid a hand on his arm.

"Let him come to terms with it on his own. His resolve is strong and he will come out of this a better person. If you coddle and comfort him, he will give up hope."

Sirius looked at Ollivander in surprise. For a 'crazy old wand-maker', they were some very wise words, rivalling the wisdom of Dumbledore.

* * *

Harry ran, he ran and ran. Holding back tears that threatened to spill over, Harry ran blindly, not caring where he ended up. He knew the circumstances of a pure-blood without magic. They were pushed aside by the Magical World, shunned by Wizarding society, they were barely _human _in the eyes of most pure-blooded social groups.

His father was still in pure-blooded circles even after marrying a muggleborn, so despite only being a half-blood, Harry would be treated accordingly as a pure-blood.

Harry realised this was how've was treated at home anyway, ignored in favour of a "pure-blood", Anthony. But Harry always had a dream and a hope, that one day he would surpass all expectations he would surprise everyone and people would finally recognise him, and respect him. But now, without magic, that dream came crashing down around Harry. It left him feeling broken and shattered. As Harry slowed down, he took stock of his surroundings. He was in Muggle London.

Harry wondered how he managed to get here as he barely recalled going through the Leaky Cauldron, but then again, his mind was pretty occupied at the time. Wandering through the streets of London, his mind kept wandering back to the dilemma of his wand as Harry wondered if he had enough magic to perform wandless magic on a regular basis.

Harry found himself in a park with a playground, a few little children and their parents. He made his way to the empty swings, sitting and slowly pushing himself off the ground looking down at his shoes. He didn't swing very high, but he had movement.

"_What kind of wizard would you be if you didn't have a wand..." _Harr_y _thought to himself. He could make himself a staff, like Myrddin Emrys, or Merlin, once had, but staves were excessively difficult and very expensive to make, requiring a pure and naturally found perfect precious stone to channel immense amounts of magic a staff is able to produce. No, Harry would not be getting a staff.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt someone sit in the vacant swing beside him. Not looking up, he noticed that the movement of the other person matched his own slow and short swing. Not wanting a conversation, Harry was about to get off when he heard a feminine voice speak to him.

"What's wrong?"

Looking up, Harry saw a girl, around is age with a curious shade of light pale blue hair, reaching down to the middle of her back. She wore a simple white shirt with blue sleeves and a deeper blue skirt, reaching her knees, black leggings and black flats. And her eyes... Sapphire blue stared into emerald green eyes, concern mixed with curiosity. In Harry's opinion, she looked very pretty.

"What makes you think I'm down?"

"Mostly it's because of your posture. Your shoulders are hunched and your head is down, the fact you're on swings and yet you're barely moving also indicates that something is wrong."

Harry let out a sigh, looking at the ground, wondering how much he should tell this strange girl.

"I'm... My family... My brother is a celebrity of sorts, you wouldn't know him but my parents adore him. I'm just the outcast... I don't get anything special, in fact my parents barely acknowledge that I exist..."

Harry had stopped swinging at this point and took a shuddering breathe before continuing.

"My family and all their friends and anyone from that crowd live to a certain standard and have a requirement. Anyone who isn't '_normal_', I guess, are basically rejected and if possible, thrown out of their lives, literally. They'll take you and dump you on a random street and leave you there. Today, I found I don't have that special requirement... And... And I don't know what to do..."

Tears formed in Harry's eyes, slowly sliding down his cheeks. He felt a pair of arms wrap around him. He turned to find the girl hugging him, and despite only meeting her a few minutes ago, he felt strangely relaxed and comforted, not at all awkward.

"I may not know exactly what you are going through, but I can relate. Both my parents died in an accident..." Harry noticed she flinched slightly when she mentioned her parents, "and now I live in an orphanage just a few blocks down. I've been an outcast there as well. Everyone doesn't like me, they all think I'm weird because of my hair, they bully me and call me names and sometimes they even beat me. That's why I come here most of the time. No one looks for me in this park and I'm able to get away from everyone."

She didn't know why she was pouring out her life story for a boy she only met a few minutes ago. She hasn't opened up to anyone before but somehow, it felt _right_.

Harry looked at her, and realised that her clothes were rumpled and a bit frayed, a few barely noticeable tears in her shirt and leggings. Bruises and scars on her arms and face became visible to Harry's sight, slight things he didn't notice before. Judging by the amount of scars and their size, Harry thought there was a lot more going on than just bullying.

Yet despite all the pain she must have gone through, there was still a smile on her face. Deep underneath the caring eyes lay all her pain, buried inside of her, refusing to let it show.

Harry reflected on his own life, and how selfish he must look in front of the girl. Crying because you're ignored... And he realised that he had Sirius looking out for him. This girl has no one, suffers physical pain and yet she does let that get her down.

Embarrassingly wiping away his tears, he returned her hug.

"I'm sorry about your parents."

"Well, I can't change the past so I try to move on"

There was an awkward silence when both children suddenly realised that they were still holding on to each other. Blushing, they both quickly retracted their arms.

"The sun is setting soon," the girl said suddenly, "I have to get back to the orphanage before curfew."

Harry nodded, slightly sad to say goodbye to, really, the only friend he's ever had (Sirius doesn't really count).

The girl got off the swings and started to walk away but Harry quickly reached out and grabbed her hand.

"Wait, what's your name? I'm Harry Potter"

She giggled slightly and smiled. "Nice to meet you Harry Potter. I'm Elena Neo"

And with that, she walked away.

"Thank you... Elena…." Harry whispered quietly to himself.

He sat in silence on the swings for a few seconds, before he pushed off from the ground and started to swing as high as he could.

•-•-•-•-•

**Also thanks everyone for the follows, favourites and reviews**

**Please keep doing so!**

**~Matanator**


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